


puppeteer

by garbagedad666



Category: Block B
Genre: Club AU, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, jihoon is a bouncer hah, lots of plot holes but ay they do the diddle, sexy jaehyo obviously, what nerds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 15:02:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4710251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garbagedad666/pseuds/garbagedad666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Ahn Jaehyo wasn't so fucking pretty, maybe Jihoon's actions could be excused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	puppeteer

     At this rate, Jihoon is going to lose his job.

     If Ahn Jaehyo wasn’t so fucking _pretty_ , maybe Jihoon’s actions could be excused. _Oh, he’s only twenty-one. New to the scene. Don’t do it again next time_. His boss would let him off with a warning and leave it at that.

     Jihoon _tries_ to resist, he really does. Every time the club opens, he straightens his tie and pushes his hair back with one hand, putting on a weary yet goofy smile as he looks down the list of names. In a way, being in this position feels powerful to Jihoon; like he’s a giant choosing whether to squash villages beneath him.

     Jihoon’s good at his job, he really is. However, it’s always at around eleven-thirty at night that he loses his edge, because Ahn Jaehyo has found his way to the front of the line. Every time Jihoon looks him over (a bit more than he should, he’ll admit), Jaehyo dons shirts that expose his collarbones and pants that look like they’ve been painted on. The club is a little dingy, he won’t lie. It’s not the most expensive, selective place out there, but they still have certain standards that need to be maintained.

     His lips part right about then, ready to say the words he’s rehearsed at home so many times _(“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you in tonight.”)_

     But every fucking time, his mouth goes dry.

     Jaehyo’s eyes are clear as day, even under the fluorescent lights that indicate the club’s entrance. They crinkle slightly at the edges, and Jihoon knows it’s because Jaehyo is aware of his weakness. The expertly-placed liner that glides easily around the natural perimeter of Jaehyo’s eyes only amplifies his smug stare.

     Jihoon always ends up making a choked sound, and finds himself pulling the red rope back for Jaehyo without another word. The pretty boy will give Jihoon a little smile, one that fakes innocent for the people who look at him and know he doesn’t belong in a place like this. A smile that claims that Jihoon’s the one with the problem.

     He may be stubborn, but Jihoon refuses to believe that it’s his fault. _He’s just too much_ , he repeats to himself. _Anyone would be hypnotized by someone that pretty._ Jihoon knows he’s not wrong, but that doesn’t stop him from sneaking a shot or two into his shifts near the bar.

 

     Every night, it seems to be the same cycle.

     Jihoon is busy, usually; he’s helping to drag out drunk creeps that make women squirm, or helping his coworkers move the DJ equipment once a set is finished. He rarely has time to sit back, but tonight’s different.

     “Take a break, Jihoonie,” Taeil instructs, giving him a small pat on the shoulder. “You’ve been moving stuff all night. Your muscles must ache like hell. Just sit for a while. Get a drink if you can. Chat up some ladies or something.”

     Jihoon gives his coworker (and best friend, for that matter) a quick bow of thanks and orders a Diet Coke as he looks around, his eyes not settling on anything in particular. Involuntarily, his eyes squeeze shut at the sharp, sweet taste.

     “You’re much too cute to be a bouncer here.”

     Jihoon looks up at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, and there he is.

     His face is highlighted in all the right places, and the shadows of the neon lights fall easily onto the slopes of his cheekbones. Jihoon licks his lips and says nothing, because for a moment he’s convinced he’s looking at an angel.

     “...Bouncers can be cute. The whole big and burly thing is just a stereotype!” he finally answers, his voice cracking involuntarily. The airy sound of his voice makes Jihoon want to punch himself in the gut.

     Jaehyo doesn’t seem to mind. He glances up at Jihoon with that same glint in his eye. Confidence--cockiness?--seems to radiate from him, and the closer he gets to Jihoon, the more it burns the other man.

     “It’s weird. I see you here all the time, but I’ve never gotten your name.”

     He nods stupidly in response, unsure of what else to do. He knows Ahn Jaehyo’s name from it being told to him so many times:

     I’m Ahn Jaehyo. My name isn’t on the guest list, but I’m sure something can be done.

     “It’s Jihoon,” he replies after a few moments, his throat dry.

     “Well, Jihoon,” Jaehyo muses, a small smile starting to tug at the ends of his glossed lips, “I think it’s about time I thank you for letting me in here so many times.”

      Jihoon’s big mouth moves before he can stop it. “I already have a diet coke, it’s fine. You don’t have to buy me a drink. Besides, I’m not encouraged to consume alcohol on duty, anyway.”

     “You’re not encouraged to let in people like me, either,” Jaehyo counters. Jihoon looks away from him. He’s right.

     “...Fine.”

 

. . .

 

     A few drinks later, Jihoon and Jaehyo are on the floor, and Jihoon’s body is moving in an awkward array of steps, sways, and twirls. He really doesn’t know anything about dancing whatsoever, but at this point he’s tipsy enough to believe that the movements he’s creating are cohesive.

     In fact, Jihoon’s so convinced that he doesn’t resist when Jaehyo’s back rests against his chest, the tight synthetic material of his shirt rubbing harshly against the exposed skin at the base of Jihoon’s neck. Despite its roughness, it tickles, and Jihoon lets out a quiet laugh. Right into Jaehyo’s ear, of course.

     Jihoon doesn’t notice, but Jaehyo sighs softly at that, before smirking wickedly and placing his hand in Jihoon’s, guiding the other man’s arm to his waist. Jihoon can feel the skin beneath the thin fabric, and how warm and inviting it is, so he wraps his arm tighter around him, letting his fingers skim under the hem of his shirt.

     Jihoon shouldn’t be doing this. He should be doing something more appropriate, like sipping an ice-cold Diet Coke at the bar or making casual conversation with Taeil about how shitty the music is. But Jaehyo has Jihoon wrapped around him--literally--and at this point Jihoon can’t do much about it, simply because Jaehyo is too pretty.

     So when Jaehyo tilts his head back enough so that his lips brush against Jihoon’s ear, the latter doesn’t even flinch.

     “You’re an awful dancer, Jihoonie,” he slurs, and Jihoon barely protests because it’s true and why he took up the job as a bouncer in the first place: so he could enjoy the club scene without having to showcase his subpar dance moves, which _really_ reminds him that he shouldn’t be with Jaehyo when he’s supposed to be working.

     Jaehyo seems to sense this, because he takes Jihoon’s hand and pulls him off the dance floor to the lounge area diagonal from the bar. Jihoon sits on the bonded leather, feeling its smoothness beneath his fingertips as he watches Jaehyo plop down right on his lap, reaching up to run his fingers easily through Jihoon’s slick black locks.

     Jihoon’s eyes meet the other’s, relishing the feeling of Jaehyo’s hands massaging his scalp. Jaehyo licks his lips, and they’re so close that Jihoon can see the shine on the other man’s mouth. It looks warm and inviting and absolutely _delicious_.

     Without realizing it, Jihoon’s lips are smashed against Jaehyo’s. He responds immediately, gripping Jihoon’s hair with one hand and feeling up his chest with another. Jihoon’s tongue impatiently makes its way into Jaehyo’s mouth, and he’s pleasantly surprised at the realization that Jaehyo tastes about as good as he looks, like sweet alcohol and cinnamon breath mints. They’re pulling each other closer. Jaehyo is undoing the buttons of Jihoon’s blazer, pushing it off and undoing the first few buttons of his dress shirt. They shouldn’t be doing this here, not with so many staff floating around, but Jaehyo is relentless and Jihoon can’t do anything but follow along.

 

     “When I told you to go chat people up, this wasn’t what I had in mind.”

     Taeil’s voice makes Jihoon dart away from Jaehyo, looking up at his coworker with the shine of saliva still present on his lips. The older man looks irritated, but also amused.

     “Shit, hyung,” Jihoon says, stumbling over his words as he pulls his blazer back on and adjusts the red poppy brooch that’s pinned to it, hanging his head low. “I-I…”

     Taeil gives a little laugh, cutting Jihoon off. “Did you really think I didn’t see this coming, Jihoon? You’ve been letting this guy in for weeks. Minhyuk owes me fifty thousand won now. Thanks for this.”

     Jaehyo’s face is tinged pink, but he remains silent as Taeil continues to speak, more to himself than to Jihoon.

     “Listen. I’ll cover for you. Just get out now before any other staff notices.”

     Jihoon opens his mouth to speak, then closes it upon realizing that he doesn’t know what to say. Instead, he gives Taeil a grin and a quick side-hug before Jaehyo tugs him away through the crowd and out the door.

    They do the deed in Jaehyo’s modest yet classy-looking apartment, and Jihoon sees stars once they finish, collapsing beside the other man on his bed and looking over at him with a hazy glint in his eyes. Jaehyo is smiling at him, his neck and chest scattered with little red marks that were exchanged between them.

     “You’re so pretty,” Jihoon breathes, mesmerized, as his large hands trace slowly over Jaehyo’s ribs and the gentle curve of his waist. With the white covers barely over him, he really does look like a work of art. Like the smoothness of his creamy skin is long, slick brushstrokes and the dark marks interrupting it are splatters of red and purple that somehow bring everything together.

     “I know,” he mumbles back, kissing gently at the square of Jihoon’s jaw. As if that weren’t enough, the sound of a low chuckle coming from his lips causes goosebumps to rise on Jihoon’s skin.

     “You’ve boosted my ego enough already. Don’t let me in tomorrow.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> what was i even writing  
> first block b fic so i promise the next one will be less shitty  
> stay tuned


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